


You Are Giving Me a Whiplash

by AllTheseLittleWritings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Job, Bullying, Explicit Language, Hate, Hurt, Jazz - Freeform, Love, M/M, Mental Abuse, Music, Racist Language, Sex in a closet reference, Teacher/Student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheseLittleWritings/pseuds/AllTheseLittleWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whiplash AU. Louis is an aspiring jazz pianist who gets in to a jazz band led by the feared Harry Styles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Giving Me a Whiplash

Steps echo in Louis’ ears, when his heels touch the ground. The grey weather of London wraps him in the foggy cloak and keeps every purposeful thought tightly in Louis’ mind. He has something important to do. He has to do it, so he can become the best. 

Louis steps in to a cafe that is half full. He sees Elliot, his boyfriend, sitting by a table with a coffee cup in front of him. He is scrolling through something on his phone, his brown hair dropped on to his forehead. It’s not that Louis wouldn't care about Elliot. It’s about the fact that Louis has to do something that he knows will help him go forward in his career. If he wants to be the next great jazz pianist, he has to forget every little distracting thing around him. 

“Hey” Louis greets Elliot and goes to sit opposite him in the table for two. Elliot raises his gaze. First he smiles with his brown eyes, then the smile spreads to his whole face. Louis already knows that he will miss that smile someday.  
“Hey.”  
“Sorry, I’m late. I got some news today.” Louis shrugs his jacket from his shoulders and hangs it on the back of his chair.  
“I got your message earlier. It must be something big?” Elliot takes the coffee cup in his hands and takes a sip out of it.  
“It certainly is. You remember when I told you about Harry Styles? He is the guy who directs the best jazz band of the whole school? The best student jazz band in the whole country? And how he heard me playing the piano last week?” Louis raises his brows at Elliot, emphasizing his every word. Elliot has to know that this means the world to Louis.  
“I do, I remember it all. Of course. You told me that he is the most talented, feared and the youngest teacher, who has run the band. How old was he again? And what has happened?”  
“He is maybe 23 or something. But anyway. We were practicing like always with The Nocturnals, until I noticed that someone was standing behind the class room door. Then that someone went away. A moment later Harry Styles steps in to the class flying the door open. The practice ended by him asking us all to play some notes from a jazz song. Guess who he picked to be part of his band?” Louis smiles from ear to ear, not able to contain his excitement.  
“Are you kidding me? He asked you to be in his band?” Elliot is watching Louis almost not believing his ears. Elliot has always known that Louis is talented. He has heard Louis rehearse and he has heard him play at a few university concerts. He also knows that if you get in Harry Styles’ band, the student has a real possibility to have a career by playing an instrument.  
“Of course I said yes! This is such a huge deal for me. Last year he trained a drummer who is now in New York studying and he is being made to be the next big name in the scene of jazz drummers. Think about it! I could be the next big jazz pianist in the world!” Louis glows as he ends his sentence. He feels sparks radiating from his fingertips. He could carve a keyboard from the table and play the keys until they break. 

“It has always been your dream. I’m so happy for you! We have to go celebrate this somehow!” Elliot takes a hold of Louis’ hand and waves their intertwined hands on the table a little.  
“Yes, this leads us to the subject I wanted to talk to you about. I’m going to be honest with you now, because you deserve it. This is such a big thing that I don’t think I have enough time for this relationship anymore. I have to concentrate on practicing, make a good impression and succeed beyond expectations. I’m the youngest in the band, I have to show them what I can do. I have to succeed and it demands my focus on practicing. If I’m with you, I’m not going to think about anything other than playing and notes. When I’m not with you, I practice. You just don’t simply fit in my life now. I hope that you understand. I just have to focus on my dream.” Louis ends his little speech almost out of breath. When he had heard the big news, he recited his words to Elliot over and over again in his head. Excitement runs in his veins when he even thinks about the amount of piano playing he will get to do in that band. 

Elliot is looking at Louis without believing his words. Is Louis really ready to let this go because of music?  
“Hold on.. You are breaking up with me because you think that I'm not going to be able to handle it? That I won't handle you reaching for your dreams?”  
“Yes, if you want to see it that way. But believe me. It wouldn't be pleasurable for either of us if we were together when I'm in the middle of the busiest training season.” Louis sighs and hopes that Elliot understands what Louis is after. Louis just knows that their relationship would go through a slow death, if he wouldn't break it off immediately. Louis needs this, even though he knows they could both end up hurt. 

“Clearly you have made your decision. I hope that you reach that fucking dream, that you want so fucking much.” Elliot hisses against Louis' face and gets up by the table. He takes some cash from his pocket, hits it to the table and leaves taking his jacket with him. He is not going to spend any gazes at Louis, who is looking at Elliot's every move attentively. Did this still end in Elliot not understanding Louis? Or then he understood: surely Louis could have been a bit more discreet. Maybe the break up came a bit out of nowhere. Louis lulls his mind with a thought that this will all be good.  
Elliot takes long strides to the cafe door and then disappears in to the gray drizzle of London. 

\- - - -

“You sit there and turn the note sheets for me.” Josh says to Louis, when the musicians step in to the class room. It's 5 to 9 in the morning. Harry Styles arrives every day exactly at 9 o'clock. The members of the band have 5 minutes to get their instruments tuned and their music sheets in front of them for the practice.

Louis takes his place by the grand piano, on the left side of Josh. He sees all the musicians and the teacher from his spot, the teacher has to just arrive. Some of the students are talking with each other about the events of last night: how someone had scored with some girl, how one had really thought of having a band practice at his home so he could learn the songs properly. Other students are tuning and getting their instruments ready. Oppressive feeling fills the room. The air is thick with tension even though people are talking and seem relaxed. The dark walls suck all the oxygen around Louis. It makes his heart pound in his chest, making the beat speed up even more. Louis stares at the clock on the wall. It ticks forward with every second, not giving mercy to anyone. 

When the clock hits 9, the door opens and Harry Styles steps in. Everyone gets to their feet and they keep their sights steady. Styles watches around the class room with his hard green eyes. His black jeans are tight. His black shirt hides the muscles under its fabric – they are powerful and almost aggressive. Styles takes off his jacket and hangs it to a jacket stand in the corner of the room. He pulls his long sleeves to his elbows, revealing tattoos on his left arm. He steps in front of the students. He takes out his notes and puts them tidily on the music stand. 

“Good morning! We have a newcomer today, Louis Tomlinson. Can you believe that he is just a first year student here? Lets show him what we can do. Lets begin with 'Overture'!”  
Styles lifts his left hand in the air. In the silence it sounds like every student takes a deep breath at the same time.  
The instructor waves his hand in the air and the band starts to play with finesse, flowingly and the music finds every nerve cell in Louis' body. He feels his blood stand still, and at the same time running in his veins making Louis dizzy. Music takes over of Louis' hands and his fingers play an invisible keyboard on his thighs. Harry Styles looks at every student with tight eyes. He bites his teeth together and guides the band wildly swaying his hand in the air. 

The band quiets down in a second as Styles pulls his hand in to a fist in the air.  
“Have you become deaf or what has happened? Did it fucking sound like I was instructing a group of monkeys or top musician students? I think it didn't sound either. It sounded like I was trying to get a brain dead to dance the swan lake! What the fuck is wrong with you! Can't you hear it yourself?” Styles passes back and forth in front of the saxophonists. He looks at everyone in the class room at their own turn. His green eyes glide past Louis. 

“Who admits? Who was out of tune?” He looks at the saxophonists.  
“No one? Because this... Was the last chance. Jim, on third!” Styles yells and stands in front of the student, Jim. He swallows visibly and places the instrument on his mouth.  
“Any last words?” Styles asks him, leaning a bit forward to be closer to the frightened student. Jim shakes his head rapidly and looks at the teacher from under his brows.  
“1..2..3...” Styles brings his hand in the air and starts to lead. Jim blows in to the instrument and it keeps a dreadful sound.  
“What the fuck do you think you are doing here, when clearly you are the worst in the whole band! How the fuck do you think you are going to be any good for us in any future competition!” Styles leans forward again, looking Jim with his ice cold eyes.  
“How the fuck do you think you will survive? For example as you are a chubby student, you won't get a Big Mac at the right time on the day of the competition? How the hell have you even become to be a saxophonist? Why the fuck did I take you in to the band when you can't even play! Get out!!” Styles yells. The whole room is dead silent. Everyone is afraid of the furious teacher. 

Jim gathers his things quickly and leaves the class room. He is clearly trying to keep in his tears , that are threatening to fall on his red cheeks. Styles drags his hand through his brown curls and walks back behind the music stand.  
“Lets take it from the top.” He sighs. The brass instrument players put their devices on their lips. Everyone is waiting for the instructor to start leading the band with tense muscles. Nothing happens. Louis is holding in his breath, as Styles looks at every musician in the room, lastly at Louis in his eyes. He narrows his sight and something flashes in Styles' eyes. 

“Let's take a five minute break. After that our new player can show us his skills.” Styles says and drops his hand from the air. Everyone in the room lets out a relieved sigh and leaves the room. Louis follows everyone outside and stays to stand by the class room door. He leans his back to the wall. Everyone else disappear somewhere, where Louis can't see them. But Louis hears them talking. Styles steps out from the class room and stays to stand opposite from Louis. 

“Well, how did the first moments in the band feel?” Harry asks, a hint of smile on his lips. His face softens as he is talking with Louis. Louis watches his green sparkling eyes, that give Louis confidence.  
“Exciting of course.” He doesn't come up with anything else to say, so he wouldn't make a silly first impression of himself.  
“Believe in yourself and everything goes well. You are here for a reason. I wouldn't have taken you in to the band, if I wouldn't believe that you have something new to give. How does that sound like?” Harry gets closer to Louis, pressing his hand against the wall next to Louis' head. Louis' heart beats rapidly in his chest, making his breathing quicken. Harry is a little taller than Louis and he has to bend his neck to look Louis in the eyes. 

“Have you ever been in love?” Harry asks smiling.  
“I have.” Louis answers with a swallow. He suddenly feels very small, like he was very young.  
“Girl- or a boyfriend?” Harry raises his brows at Louis.  
“Erm, a boyfriend.” Louis says quietly and presses his eyes to the floor.  
“Has your family always been there for you?” Harry uses his softest voice. It's low and slow.  
“My father has always been important and there for me. My mother left us when I was just a child.” Louis dares to look at the teachers eyes.  
“It must've been a great moment, when your father has been by your side. When you play, remember to relax and think about the feeling of having someone there for you. Believe that you are here for a reason.” Harry says and he tilts his head a little. His green eyes are almost hypnotic. His eye lashes frame the green in perfect contrast. His dark clothes try to suck all the color from his eyes, but still the green manages to cut through everything. Louis could see those eyes all the time.  
“That sounds good.” Louis encourages himself to smile a bit, only a little. He doesn't want to seem too arrogant.  
“Say it out loud. I am here for a reason.” Harry urges.  
“I am here for a reason.” Louis says, his voice wavering just the slightest.  
“Good. Good luck.” Harry pulls his hand away from the wall and fixes his curls on his head.  
“Lets continue!” His voice booms in the hall and everyone returns in to the class room, Louis walking in first. He smiles, he believes in himself. He can do this. He is the next big talent. 

“Tomlinson, behind the keyboard! Everyone, 'Whiplash'! From the top!” Styles instructs and lifts his hand in to the air. Louis fills his lungs with air and places his hands on the keys. He looks Harry in to his eyes. They have turned hard again. Then Louis looks at Harry's hand that stands in the air waiting for everyone. Styles moves it and Louis plays the right notes. Pure elation takes over Louis' body, when the music he plays sounds like a success. Everyone is playing in the right key, everyone is enjoying. Styles walks in front of the band, guides the players with his hands, swaying his head slowly from side to side, clearly liking the music. Everything goes as Louis had planned, he has the chance to achieve what he wants. He does achieve it. 

Everyone stops playing like they hit a wall. Louis plays a couple of keys after everyone has already gone silent, before he wakes to see Harry staring at him. Harry has his hand in the air, pressed in to a tight fist. He is ready to say something.  
“Tomlinson. Something went wrong with the tempo. Try again, only the piano.” He says and Louis nods. Louis swallows and presses his fingertips to the keyboard again.  
“And 1.. 2..” Harry moves his hand in the air and Louis starts to play. Harry makes a fist from his hand immediately and he has an annoyed smile on his lips.  
“There was a problem with the tempo again. Don't rush. Listen to the rhythm.” He instructs and opens his hand. Louis breathes out the air that was in his lungs.  
Again Louis starts to play when Harry shows him the signal. But the music doesn't last long as Harry's hand becomes a fist again.  
“For fucks sake! Listen to the fucking rhythm! If I say not to rush, I don't mean that you are going to drag behind! Again, the same part!” Harry lifts his hand in to the air, looks at Louis with his cold green eyes and leans a little forward. Louis puts his fingers on the keys and starts to play before Harry has given him a go.  
“On my sign. This time remember to listen.” Harry smiles again, making Louis smile nervously. Harry swings his hand in the air, making Louis play. The swing of the hand is almost like Harry pulls an invisible leash, that is tied to Louis' hands. It leads Louis like he was a doll. 

“FUCK!” Harry yells and frightens Louis. He pulls his hands to his lap and looks at Harry with big eyes.  
“Can't you tell the difference between rushing and dragging? You can't understand, can you? You fucking dick sucking fag! Focus on this, and no to what is waiting for you hard at home!” Harry yells. Louis holds in his breath. He did not expect this.  
“Once more! If you mess this up, Josh will take his place back and you will be turning the music sheets!” Louis nods and places his shaking hands on the keys. He checks the notes and makes sure that he has played in the right tempo. At least he believes he has. 

Louis knows that this is his last chance. If he blows this up, he might not get a second chance. He has to succeed. Harry lifts his hand in the air. Louis watches it with fearful eyes. His heart is hammering. He hears in his ears, how the tempo should go. He counts it in his head. His pulse vibrates everywhere in his body. Louis sees in slow motion, how Harry's hand starts to lower and lifts back up. This is his sign. Louis hears himself press a key. There is no turning back. He starts to play and when Harry doesn't give him a sign to stop, it eases Louis nerves at least a little bit. Harry walks in to the corner of the room. Louis follows his moves, playing the piano at the same time. He tries to concentrate on everything around him, listening to the music he plays. Everything goes as planned. 

Until Harry runs towards Louis with a fold up chair in his hands and throws it towards Louis. Louis manages to bow down just in time and the chair hits the wall behind him. The music stops in the room. With a racing heart, Louis looks at Harry. He is furious. His eyes are flaming with hate. He rushes next to Louis, right beside Louis' ear.  
“You still have that dick in your mind, don't you! You are not going to ruin this from me! You are not going to ruin these rehearsals! Josh, back as the lead pianist. That fucking sissy is no use. Let's show him how we really play in here!”

Louis feels how tears burn his eyes and they threaten to show his weakness. He doesn't want Harry to think that Louis is a young and inexperienced boy, who can't handle any pressure. He can do this. He only has to practice. Louis gets up from the players seat and moves next to the piano as Josh takes his place behind the keyboard. He watches Louis derogatorily. Louis slumps on the chair and turns the music sheet in front of Josh. He stares at the keys of the grand piano. When did they become the enemy? He can't let this drown all the joy, that playing the piano has brought to him. He won't allow it.  
Louis listens and follows Josh's hands through the rest of the rehearsals. If Louis wants to be better, even better than Josh, better than anyone else, he has to know how to use his hands.

\- - - -

“Take it from the top!” Harry raises his voice, when they are having the last rehearsal before an important competition.  
“'Whiplash'!” Harry yells and everyone is ready to play. Josh sits on his chair, his back straight. Louis hears, how the bass player snaps his joints in his hands and sees, how one of the trumpet players takes a deep breath.  
Harry leads the band with ease, a cold look in his eyes. He has yelled almost at everyone today, either because of the tempo or the melody. He is on the edge of losing his temper again. But this time it doesn't happen. 

“Take care of my notes.” Josh pushes his book of music sheets in to Louis' hands and leaves somewhere, when the band has a few minutes of down time before the performance. Louis looks at the book and goes to a vending machine. He throws the book to a chair next to the machine and pushes some coins in to it, so he gets a bottle of beverage.  
“Where are my notes?” Josh comes to stand opposite from Louis.  
“They are...” Louis turns to look at the chair, only to see that the book isn't there anymore.  
“I put them on that chair. Someone must've taken them. I promise that I was looking at them the whole time. I'm really sorry. I promise that they were there.” Louis sees how cold sweat pushes through Josh's skin on his forehead.  
“I gave the notes for you and I told you to take care of them! And now you have lost them! What the fuck! Find them or I will smash your head in!”  
“I promise I will find them. They have to be somewhere close.”  
“Somewhere close! They should be here with you!”

“What the hell are you yelling! I can hear it to the stage!” Harry comes to stand with the two young men, his curls flowing a little, his cheeks a little red.  
“This fucking inexperienced fag lost my music sheets!” Josh can't keep his voice down. Louis is used to hearing a lot of bad nicknames and now he is only accepting them.  
“They are your notes. Why did you give them to Tomlinson?” Harry asks with a bored expression.  
“Because I had to take a piss.” Josh tells the instructor, lifting his hands in the air in defense.  
“You are responsible for your music sheets the whole time. Not some idiot student. But I assume you know the notes by heart, so what is the big problem?” The coldness in Harry's eyes freezes the green under it.  
“I can't play without my notes. It has been proven that I can't play if I don't have a visual aid from the notes in front of me. I can't remember them.”  
“Fuck the visual! This isn't about some fucking notes, this is about playing! And apparently now I have to find a new pianist, that I don't fucking have!” Harry yells against Josh's face, that gets pale by Styles' words. The more Harry Styles raises his voice, the more scared Josh looks like.  
“I remember the notes.” Louis says next to Josh. Both, Harry and Josh, turn to look at Louis. Josh has his mouth a little open, Harry looks incredulous behind his angry eyes.  
“You remember the notes?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“You can be fucking sure to not make the band become a laughing-stock and fuck the performance up.” Harry warns, leaning towards Louis.  
“I know what I'm doing.” Louis says, his shoulders stiff. He hides his nervousness under a hard shell, that he has grown.  
“Everyone! To the stage in three minutes!” Harry exclaims and looks at Louis deliberately. 

This is the moment Louis can earn his place in the band. To get Harry Styles to like him, to make him decide about Louis differently. As Louis walks on the stage, he doesn't hear or see anything else other than the piano, that is waiting for him. When he sits behind it, confronting Harry's cold sight, Louis knows that he has to succeed. 

And he succeeds. 

\- - - - 

Louis walks in to the class, when some other students are already there. Others look at him strangely, maybe even a little afraid. Everyone is defying something that Louis brings in with him. No one speaks to him, like they never do. But this time Louis doesn't feel like it would be a normal rehearsal. Something is waiting for him, and it might not be something that he would look forward to. 

Harry steps in to the room at exactly nine o'clock. Everyone stands up. Josh is behind the keyboard of the grand piano, Louis is on his place next to the piano.  
“Morning!” Harry greets. He gets a choir of mornings answered back, before everyone sit back down again.  
“Josh, why are you sitting by the keys when your place is to turn the music sheets? We have a new lead pianist, if you have kept your head way too long in your ass to notice that.” Harry says with a stinging tone. The confidence on Josh's face crumbles and he turns to look at Louis. Louis watches Harry, not believing his ears. He gets up from his chair when Josh comes to stand before him. The keys look inviting as Louis sits in front of them. 

“Take a 15 minute break.” Harry says, just as Louis has made himself comfortable by the piano.  
“Not you Tomlinson.” Harry tells him and Louis can only nod. This might be the moment Louis doesn't want to expect. Everyone else disappear behind the door, that locks as the last saxophonist steps out. Louis watches Harry walking towards him, with a bundle of music sheets in his hands. 

“The next song is 'Caravan'.” Harry tells Louis and sits next to him, right by his side. Harry places the notes in front of Louis and plays the tempo with one of the keys.  
“Have you practiced your double time tempo? I asked you to play it when we first met.” Harry asks, his face surprisingly soft. Louis nods and thinks back to the late nights as he has played the piano. Blood dripping from under his nails, sweat streaming on his face and neck, as he has practiced that double time tempo.

“Good. Begin.” Harry encourages and Louis starts to play from the notes. Harry doesn't say anything. He doesn't give any hint if the music goes as he would want it to go, if Louis plays the right tempo. Harry touches Louis' hand, which makes Louis turn his eyes from the notes to the man next to him.  
“Keep on going.” He tells. Louis nods and starts again.  
Harry grazes his fingertips gently on Louis' hand, moving them up on Louis' arm. The fingers find Louis' sleeve, dragging it up. Harry's hand travels up to Louis' neck. Harry follows his touch with his eyes and then with his lips, when his hand is touching the nape of Louis' neck. 

Louis doesn't stop playing the music, but his breathing is dense. Harry follows the neckline of Louis' blue shirt and gently kisses his delicate skin. Harry moves closer, still kissing Louis' neck. He places his other hand on Louis' thigh. The music comes to a halt as Louis presses the wrong key and he shuts his eyes. Harry moves Louis' hands on the right keys and whispers “continue” in to his ear. 

Louis plays, when Harry adds more pressure to his touch. He moves down from the chair, to Louis' feet. He pushes Louis a little further, to make room for himself between Louis' legs.  
“Don't you fucking dare stop playing that piano.” Harry says, looking Louis straight in the eyes. Something has changed. Harry's eyes aren't hard, they are soft, full of flames. There isn't hate between Harry and Louis, but something else. 

Louis continues to play Caravan, again and again, as Harry teases Louis. Harry opens Louis' jeans. He pulls them down with his boxers, revealing Louis in front of him. Gently he touches Louis. It makes Louis' breathing hitch in his throat and vibrations go through his every muscle. Harry lifts Louis' shirt to kiss his skin. Louis leans a little back, still trying to focus on the notes and playing. Harry touches Louis lightly. Louis feels how his blood gathers to his most sensitive areas. Louis feels Harry's hot mouth around him and Louis lets out a silent moan. 

Harry's mouth closes around Louis and Louis notices how he bobs his head up and down to the rhythm. Louis plays the piano with shaky hands, Harry plays Louis skillfully. Louis feels the burn in his spine and his stomach. He knows that he is close. 

“Harry.” Louis groans, when he feels himself leaking. Harry keeps Louis on his place by having his large hands on Louis' hips. The playing of the piano loses all the last remains of relaxation, when Louis' hands touch the keys more strongly. Harry hums against Louis. His nose touches Louis' skin. Louis closes his eyes and plays the song from memory, as he has already played it at least five times. Hot waves burn Louis' nerves, when he feels himself cum in to Harry's mouth and down his throat. Harry swallows everything, without leaving a mess on himself, Louis or the chair. He removes his hands from Louis' hips, pulling his boxers and jeans up and closes the button and zipper on the jeans. 

“Not a word about this to the others.” Harry says while looking at the student from under his brows. His voice is hoarse, his lips are red and thick, his eyes are heavy. Louis nods and still keeps on playing the song. His hands are shaking and he is afraid of getting to his feet. His head feels dizzy, his legs feel numb.  
Harry rises from his knees, fixes his shirt and hair. He takes a hold of Louis' hands and puts them to his lap, to make him stop playing the instrument. Harry gives a meaningful look to Louis, before turning towards the door. He walks to it, like nothing had happened.  
“Lets continue!” Harry croaks to the others by the door. When everyone come back in to the class room, no one hasn't got any idea, what happened just a moment before. 

\- - - -

“As everyone has already noticed, we have a problem to get our pianist to work with us, because he only has some new shag in his mind.” Harry sighs in front of all the students. Louis bows his head down and looks at the keyboard. Harry keeps hurting Louis and later he asks other kind of attention. Louis doesn't know what to do anymore. He practices night and day, he goes to university, he has to endure the yelling if he is thousandth of a tempo behind or ahead.  
One of the trumpeters coughs. Louis turns his head to him and sees the man trying to hold in a smile.  
“Scott, are you Tomlinson's new boyfriend?” Harry asks while massaging his temples.  
“No, no, I'm not.” Scott answers and shakes his head frantically.  
Harry looks at him bored. Louis watches Harry from under his brows, trying to see something soft in him. But he doesn't see it. Only cold and bad. Harry turns on his heels and takes long strides to the door, leaving the room. Everyone looks after him, as the door closes and Harry doesn't return. Louis takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. His hands start to shake, when he lets his guards down for just a moment. 

The others are talking, without taking notice of Louis. Like he doesn't even exist. Louis knows that some people are talking about him, just a little more quietly. Still Louis hears every word they say. How Louis hasn't done enough as the lead pianist. How he must've stolen the music sheets from Josh. How Louis has gotten private lessons from Harry and still he hasn't made any progress. Louis feels how the blush rises to his cheeks, just a little bit. Louis doesn't usually blush, but he still feels the burn on his skin. 

The door opens suddenly and everyone goes quiet.  
“Josh, Tomlinson, stay here. Everyone else, have a break. This can take a while.” Harry tells them and walks to stand behind his music stand. Others slouch out from the class room, some of them look at Louis from the corners of their eyes. The door closes slowly. The room is quiet. Louis could hear a pin drop. The silence almost hurts his ears.  
“Because neither of you are no use, I'm holding you an exam.” Harry says and walks again to the door. He opens it and asks someone to come in. Louis looks at the new-comer with interest, until he sees who it is.  
“This is Marcus. He is from The Nocturnals. Louis, you know each other don't you? Didn't you Louis turn the music sheets for Marcus when you still were in the same band?” Harry's mocking tone makes Louis' blood boil.  
“What the fuck is this?” Louis hears himself ask.  
“What this is? This is an indication of you and Josh being only mediocre students. Maybe you should go and blow each other. Better yet maybe you should choke on it, before you start to question me! Who knows, maybe Marcus knows how to play better than you together!” Harry gets closer to Louis, with his brows raised. His eyes are clear like steel.  
“Why him?” Louis asks, not caring about Harry's words.  
“Maybe because he is better than you.” Harry's words are ice cold.  
“Tomlinson, move! Marcus, play!” Harry moves in front of the class with his hands in tight fists.  
“Hi Tommo.” Marcus smiles, like he has always smiled. This time Louis doesn't greet him back. He doesn't accept this. Louis has seen so much effort to reach his dreams. 'Caravan' can't be his destruction. Marcus isn't a better pianist than Louis is. Neither is Josh. Louis is the best. Louis remembers the song by heart. Harry knows it too. But still Harry does something like this. 

Louis moves away from the piano and sits next to Josh on one of the foldable chairs.  
“Louis, do you have the notes? I forgot mine at home.” Marcus smiles again. Louis can only look at him derogatorily. Why should he give Marcus his notes, when Louis knows that he is competing against Marcus.  
“Tomlinson, why wouldn't you give your special friend a little help. You are on the same line after all.” Harry smiles at Marcus.  
“On the same line?” Louis asks aloud, even though he didn't mean to.  
“You three are all spare pianists. No one is the lead pianist of my band. So why wouldn't you challenge each other?”  
Louis looks at Harry with his head boiling. Why is he doing this? Why Louis can't get decent teaching? The only thing he gets is yelling, hurting and unnecessary rivalries. Louis knows that he is the best, but Harry doesn't give him a chance to show it.  
“'Caravan', from the beginning. You don't have to fully care about the key, I'm interested in hearing the tempo.” Harry nods at Marcus, who seems to burst in to sun shine. He looks too happy. If Marcus was in the band, he wouldn't handle it. Louis endures it already. That is one of the reasons why Louis is perfect. 

Harry swings his hand in the air, showing the tempo. Marcus starts to play. Louis hears immediately, that the tempo is fucked up. Marcus misses some keys and Louis feels how a mean smile rises to his lips. He watches Harry, who is scanning Marcus' movements closely. He lifts his hand in the air and pulls it in to a fist.  
“Perfect Marcus. What do you think, do you want to give a chance to the others?” Harry smiles. Louis' mouth drops. He doesn't believe what he is hearing. He looks at Josh, who looks as shocked as Louis feels.  
“How was that perfect?” Louis raises his voice from his place. He knows that he is walking on thin ice when he is protesting against Harry. He can't help the anger that he feels running in his veins.  
“It was perfect, because Marcus isn't trying too hard. Gay boy could try that sometimes!” Harry yells. Louis sees how few drops of spit fly in the air from Harry's mouth.  
“Josh, it's your turn. Marcus, move.” Harry has lost his cool, you can see it miles away. Anything can be heard from his mouth. Louis knows that every one of those insults will be thrown at him. 

Marcus sits next to Louis, still smiling. Why does he have to have that annoying, stupid grin on his face. There is no point in it!  
Josh plays for a moment, making Harry stop it like Josh would hit a wall. Harry only gives Josh a hand sign to get up from the chair. Harry moves to point Louis with his finger, before he opens his mouth.  
“You faggot. As you probably know this better than anyone else, show us an example!” The words drop from Harry's lips, laced with taunt.  
Louis feels his pulse raising again, when he hears the new insult. Louis knows that he should defend himself. But he also knows that if he did defend himself, Harry would say even more appalling words to him. 

Louis sits behind the keyboard, placing his fingers on the keys. Harry gives him the sign and Louis plays. Surprisingly long he also gets to play. Louis knows that he nails the tempo, he knows it. But still with some reason Harry orders Louis to stop with only a hand movement. Harry doesn't ask Louis to move from the chair. Slowly he walks towards Louis, his eyes spilling with hatred. Louis would want to look away, but he can't get his sight away from that curly haired persons eyes. The disgust in them stirs something inside Louis. He doesn't know what he looks like – if he is like a mirror of Harry's feelings. He doesn't know what to expect, when Harry's face is almost touching Louis' face.  
“Now I know why your mom left you. You always rushed ahead of everything. You rushed to think that you could be good. But let me tell you. You are no good! You still haven't learnt from that fucking first time, when you were here, that I will throw out every student who rush or drag behind. And then you give me this shit. You think that I accept it! You fucking self conscious fag! Move! Marcus! Play and show some example to this little shit!” Harry yells straight to Louis' face. He feels every little flow of air, that Harry breathes in and out. He feels how Harry's words sink deep inside of Louis' consciousness.  
Louis can't give up. Not yet. 

Louis doesn't move. He stays on the chair. He puts his hands on the keys again and starts to play the song. He looks Harry deep in to his eyes, defying him. This is a moment of all or nothing. Louis doesn't give up.  
“I told you to stop!” Harry yells. He has his hands behind his back, but it's clear that he would want to push Louis away from the piano. Louis plays harder, his fingers brutalizing the keys.  
“Are you deaf!?” Louis doesn't care, what Harry says. He is so far away from caring. He is the best and he has to show it. 

Hands grab Louis' shoulders and pull him backwards, off of the chair. Louis ends up on the floor, in to Marcus' feet. Marcus breathes heavily, looking down at Louis.  
“It's my turn.” Marcus breathes and sits behind the piano. Louis would want to hit something, preferably everyone in the room. But he has to settle for sitting next to Josh, who is trying to control his uneasiness.  
“Show us what you can do, Marcus.” Harry tells him gently. His whole presence is a total opposite from his hate only tens of seconds earlier. 

Marcus starts to play. Clear mistakes shadow the music.  
“Something went wrong there. Josh, play.” Marcus' playing doesn't go unnoticed from Harry. Louis knows that Harry saw the mistakes before too. He knows that Marcus isn't as good as Louis is. But something drives Harry forward to show hate to Louis. Louis doesn't know what the problem is with Harry. First Harry pours all the shit to Louis' shoulders, all the things that bother him. And then. Then Harry locks Louis in to his class room. Something so soft reveals from him. He turns to be the most gentle man Louis has ever met. When the class room door opens again, a monster arrives, that takes power of Harry. 

Josh plays skillfully, but there is something wrong.  
“Gay boy, play.” Harry looks at Louis. Louis sits on the chair, his fingers on the keys. He starts to play, only to get rejected again. Harry ping-pongs the students again and again in front of the keyboard. They play that one and only piece from only that one song. Every time they make a petty mistake, Harry tests them over again. An hour, two, three passes as the students try to show their skills. Louis feels how his shirt is wet on his chest. He knows that his hair hangs on his forehead. He pushes them aside with his hand, that is shaking. Louis' fingertips are sore. He sees how the skin under his nails is red with blood, ready to be spilt. He is ready to do anything to succeed. 

It's Louis' turn. Josh gets up from the chair and looks grey. He looks like he is ready to throw up. Louis feels the same. But he doesn't let that happen. Harry swings his hand in the air and Louis hits his fingers against the keys. Louis has to succeed. He has to be the next big name among the jazz pianists. Louis sees only light in his eyes. He doesn't hear what is happening around him. He is blind and deaf to everything. He feels how blood flows from his fingers on to the keys. He feels a drop of sweat rolling against his neck, making his shirt even more wet. Pain takes over his mind, making Louis bite his teeth together. He breathes through them. His heart bangs in his chest, when he feels himself rising to his feet. He has to succeed. 

Louis feels like he could pass out. He doesn't know how long he can continue anymore. Louis presses his eyes shut. He would want to imagine to be in a better place. But that doesn't happen, as the pain radiates from his fingertips to his shoulders. Louis opens his eyes and sees everything sharper than ever before. Harry is staring at Louis. This time his eyes doesn't contain hate, but the same softness as it's just the two of them. Louis moves his gaze in front of him, towards the door. It stands still, unopened. It seems like Louis could be locked in to this room for the rest of his life. Louis begins to hear what his hands are playing. What his fingers are creating. Louis has lost mind. He has lost all the rhythm, even the melody. He only plays, because he has to show that he is serious. Until he feels something break in his fingers. He drops his sight to the keys and sees them covered in blood. Covered in Louis' blood. Some nails on his right hand have broken under the music. Louis has to slow down. He sees everything in slow motion, but hears everything normally. He steadies his hands and slowly they start to come back to the real tempo. They find the keys of 'Caravan', the melody. Louis plays the last notes, before he straightens his back and lifts his hands from the surface of the keyboard. He closes his eyes and tries to keep the pain away. But it gets stronger. The pain gets a hold of Louis' hands. Louis wishes he could cut his fingers off – it would hurt less than the pain he feels now. 

“Josh, Marcus, wipe the blood from the piano. Louis, come.” Harry says, when the room has been silent for a few moments. Louis opens his eyes to see Harry. His forest green eyes watch Louis through their lashes. Harry starts to walk towards his office, that is behind the wall on the other side of the room. Louis moves with slow steps behind Harry and gets inside from the door, that Harry keeps open. 

Louis has never been in Harry's study. It doesn't differ from the class room that much. The only change in the space is, that there is a desk in the middle of the room and it has a mixed pile of papers on it. Louis looks at them and sees music sheets. A lot of marks and edits cover the pages.  
“What were you thinking back there? Are you crazy?” Harry asks pressing Louis against the desk. Louis holds his hands next to his sides, looking at his mentor in the eyes. Harry keeps his voice low and his face is worried.  
“What the hell happened?” Harry looks at Louis, trying to find some emotion from the young man. But he can't find any. Louis is like a marble statue, that doesn't say a word.  
“Louis. Say something.” Harry grazes Louis' cheekbone with his finger tips. Harry breathes through his mouth. His brows are frowning from worry. His head is bent so he can look Louis in the eyes.  
“Where are all the insults? Why aren't you calling me a fag?” Louis opens his mouth. Harry closes his mouth and straightens his head. His curls drop to his forehead and find their way to shadow his eyes.  
“Why aren't you calling me a fag? That is how you see me.” Louis states, keeping his face emotionless. It's just a fact.  
“No, that isn't true.”  
“Then why do you keep calling me that way? You know my real name.” Louis hears himself challenging steadily. Right now, every other violation is okay with his mental health compared to the agony, that is in his hands. Harry backs away from Louis and walks out from the office door. Louis doesn't hear what he says to Marcus or Josh. Louis slumps to sit against the edge of the desk and he lifts his hands to look at the injuries. They are the worst he has had by now. The nails have broken to the cuticle on two fingers. They have ripped the skin apart. Blood is flowing from under and the sides of the nails. Louis has never played like he has today. He has practiced a lot more lately, making himself feel pain. But the pain has always eased off more. The last time he got his fingers bleeding while playing the piano, he didn't even see the wounds. He realized to stop when the keys were gluey from his blood. 

Harry walks back in to the study, holding a tea mug. He places it next to Louis on the table and walks to the other side of it. Harry takes something from one of the drawers and then comes to stand in front of Louis. Louis watches what he is doing.  
“This can sting.” Harry says quietly, lifting Louis' hand between them. Harry is holding a thin cloth in his hand, that has been soaked with something. Gently he touches Louis' fingertips with it, the two worst. Louis draws in a breath through his teeth, trying to pull his hand away.  
“No, let me help.” Harry holds Louis' hand tightly. He won't let go.  
“Take a deep breath.” Harry tells Louis, as he presses the wet cloth against his fingers.  
“What is on that?” Louis tries to keep his voice even, but fails.  
“Disinfectant. Once one of the students got a wound from a drum stick, so he had to disinfect the cut. As from that moment I have always kept a bottle here.” Harry cleans the blood away from Louis' skin and the liquid starts to only burn.  
“Why did you do this to yourself?” Harry moves to take care of Louis' other hand. One of the nails has broken on it too. Not so badly, like on the right hand, but still badly enough.  
“Because I want to show you that I can do this. That I'm something else than just that one faggot, that you call me.” Louis can't hold in his words as the burn goes around in his hands. The most disruptive thing isn't the fact that Harry is being so sweet again. But that he can't apologize. He stays completely quiet. 

Harry lifts the tea mug from the table. It is full of colorless liquid.  
“Dip your fingers in. It's just water. It will wash away the rest of the blood.” Harry instructs Louis. Louis looks in to his eyes, trying to find evidence of him fooling Louis. But he can't find any. Louis lifts his hand slowly in the air and puts his fingers in the water. Slowly it turns light red from the blood, that is still dripping from his hand.  
Louis changes his hands in the water and holds the cleaned one in the air. When he gets his other hand clean too, the water is completely red. Harry holds the cloth in his hands. He removes the worst traces of Louis' music from his skin. Louis presses his hands to it tenderly. He doesn't want to hurt himself. 

“I have some band aids here. I hope it's enough.” Harry tells and goes to search through the drawers on his desk, when he has dried Louis' hands. Louis is still leaning against the desk, looking at his hands. The wounds look nonexistent compared to the pain.  
“I don't need your help.” Louis fixes his focus on the wall in front of him. It's dark wood.  
“I want to do this.” Harry answers and comes to stand in front of Louis with a roll of band aids in his hands. He measures the wounds on Louis and cuts the needed amount of bandages with scissors, that were on the table. Harry covers the bloody injuries carefully. He is clearly trying to avoid causing any more pain to Louis.  
“I'm not going to tell you that you are good. I'm not going to compliment you in class. I'm not going to stop calling you names. Because they all drive you forward. In your heart you enjoy, when I say things, that hurt you. Maybe you don't want to admit it, but I know that you like it. I know that you enjoy being in my band. I also know that you enjoy playing the piano. But I'm never going to say that you are the best.” Harry looks at Louis' blue eyes, emphasizing his words.  
He is close, maybe even too close to Louis. He touches Louis' cheek lightly, watching the movement of his hand on Louis' skin.  
“I'm not going to compliment your playing skills. But I will compliment you. When you are with me.” Harry whispers right next to Louis' ear, before his lips touch Louis' cheek bone. Louis closes his eyes and wonders what he could do.  
“How old are you?” Harry asks, still as softly as he has talked the whole time they have been in the office.  
“Isn't that a bit late now?” Louis scoffs. Harry breaths against Louis' skin and moves his lips against it, almost not even touching Louis.  
“I don't mean it because of legal reasons.” Louis gives a laugh. He feels Harry's lips lightly touching Louis' lips.  
“21” Louis says as Harry presses his cheek against Louis'.  
“Do you think I'm too old for you? Do you know how old I am?” Harry says his thought aloud.  
“No.” Louis manages to answer. Harry lifts his other hand to Louis' neck and the other to his hip. Louis holds his hands on his sides. He is afraid to touch Harry, because he is so gentle. He is also afraid, that he will cause new waves of pain.  
“23” Harry breathes against Louis' neck. He moves his hand in through the hem of Louis' shirt. Harry touches Louis' stomach, that rises and lowers while Louis breathes.  
“You are just two years older.” Louis mumbles and leans a little forward, to get more pressure from Harry's touch.  
“Do you want to stay?” Harry asks, stopping his hands. He lifts his head from Louis' skin, to look Louis in the eyes. They glint, they are beautiful in this dim light.  
“Are the others still waiting?” Louis means every student of the band. Not just the two that couldn't do their best in the competition. Those who got to clean Louis' sacrifice from the keyboard.  
“No.” Harry answers. This time it doesn't need much from Louis to lean forward and press his lips against Harry's lips. 

\- - - -

“Josh, could you find Harry before it's time to go to the stage?” Richard exclaims from the other side of the rehearsing area. Josh is sitting on his spot, watching the piano depressed. He can't understand how Harry can give Louis chances after chances. After all the things Harry has said to that child. Louis isn't ready to be in the band. Josh knows it. Josh should be up on that stage, playing to the judges of the competition. 

Josh stands from his place and nods to Richard. He starts to slouch towards the aisle, that is warm with sun shine. Two students from some other university walk towards him. They look at Josh down their noses, grazing his shoulders as they pass him. Josh sighs and looks around, if he could spot Harry somewhere. 

Josh walks back and forth, until he sees Harry by a door. Josh hides behind a corner. Harry looks to his left and right, closing the buttons of his black shirt. He pushes the hem in to his pants and draws his shoulders back. Harry looks somehow... spent. He fixes his hair and starts to walk towards Josh. Harry hasn't seen him, so Josh has time to press himself against the wall. Harry walks past Josh, without noticing him. Josh looks after him and turns towards the door. What the hell was Harry doing in there?

Josh stands in front of the door. There is some sounds behind it, very quiet, but still sounds. Someone is inside that room. Josh wonders his options: He could go in and figure out what is happening. Or he could give up and leave. His curiosity takes over his mind. He opens the door and closes it after him. And there he stands. Louis Tomlinson, putting on his shoes. He is bent over, his hair messy and he is staring at Josh with his cheeks red. Cleaning supplies lean against the wall. It doesn't take a lot of wisdom from Josh to understand what has happened. 

“What are you doing here?” Louis' voice is down, like he would have a very sore throat.  
“I could ask the same from you. You won't believe who I saw walking out from here just a moment ago.” Josh emphasizes, walking towards Louis. Josh feels his heart beating rapidly. This has been happening behind everyone's back's. No one has seen anything. It's good that Josh is here. This is his chance to shine.  
Louis swallows hard and straightens his back.  
“I'm giving you a chance to tell about this yourself. You will tell the principal, what you have been doing with Harry Styles. That way I can get rid of you and Styles. Maybe my abilities will be seen better that way. If you are not going to tell, then I will talk with other students. In the end the whole university will know what you've been doing. Which sounds better?” Josh threatens, taking steps towards Louis. Louis holds his eyes on Josh, but Josh knows that Louis would want to leave the room. He sees how Louis' breathing becomes heavier.  
“Well? Which option do you choose?” Josh is almost touching Louis' face. His nose grazes the bridge of Louis' nose. 

“Which do you choose?” Josh yells, when Louis isn't saying a word. Louis takes a step back and stumbles to a bucket, that is on the floor.  
“Which do you choose!” Josh pushes Louis against the wall. He hits it hard. Louis gasps the air out of his lungs. He looks at Josh with big eyes. He might not be afraid, but Josh knows that Louis isn't going to answer without rougher actions.  
“Okay.” Josh laughs and presses his right hand in to a tight fist. He raises it to the air. He uses as much power his body can contain. Adrenaline rushes in his veins. He hits Louis' cheek, making his head hit the wall. Louis drops to his knees. He is holding his head with both of his hands.  
“Do you want time to think?” Josh crouches in front of Louis, taking a hold of the lapels on Louis' shirt. He lifts Louis to his feet, seeing a red mark under Louis' left eye.  
“You won't need it.” Josh declares and hits Louis again, this time to his stomach. Louis bends over, gasping for breath. Josh holds Louis' shoulders, bringing his knee to meet Louis' stomach with the adrenaline in his body. Louis falls on the floor, to his side. Josh kicks the young man to his face and laughs, when Louis lets out a choked cry.  
“I'm giving you one more chance. Which do you choose?” Josh lifts his leg in the air. This time it's aimed to hit Louis straight to his chest. Louis looks at Josh, blood drips from his mouth and nose. He is holding his eye. In slow motion Louis sees how Josh moves his leg, ready to hurt Louis more.  
“I'll tell!” Louis cries, just before Josh's strength hits him.  
“Good. Don't come there. The place of lead pianist is mine.” Josh says quietly. He turns on his heels and leaves the room. Louis stays on the floor and feels tears falling from his eyes. The taste of blood in his mouth makes Louis feel sick. If he is going to tell someone, Harry can't find out about it. 

Louis stands on the edge of the stage, watching the band perform. He sees Harry looking at Josh perplexedly, but keeps on instructing the band. This competition is important to Harry, as it is to the whole band. Louis holds a crumbled piece of tissue on his face, trying to wipe the blood from his nose. But the bleeding won't stop.  
Louis looks at Harry and thinks about everything that has happened between them. He has to admit, that Harry is something more to Louis. Not just Louis' teacher or a casual fuck. Louis gives him one more look, before he looks at Josh sitting by the piano. Josh smiles mockingly, nodding his head. Louis has to turn away, as he takes out his phone from his pocket. He searches the number of the head master. He calls and knows that the call will not end only Louis' studying, but also Harry's career. 

\- - - -

“A whisky, please.” Louis asks behind a counter in a dim bar. He has sat on a tall chair for quite some time, trying to forget the events of the day. Nothing really happened. He stood behind a cash register, serving customers. But in reality, he misses his old life. When he was still able to play the piano. When he could hear that green eyed, curly haired man laugh, when it was just the two of them. 

He is listening to jazz, that a band is playing on a small stage. The music feels unfamiliar, even though Louis knows the song and how the notes go. But hearing the music gives him only emptiness, that can't be filled again. Louis gets his drink, that he empties with one mouthful. He takes a cigarette pack from the pocket of his jacket and puts a cigarette in to his mouth. He lights it up and turns to look at the band. Louis blows the gray smoke from his mouth and breathes in new smoke in to his lungs. On the stage is a pianist, a drummer, a bassist and a saxophonist. They play smoothly and Louis taps his foot to the rhythm. The saxophonist catches Louis' attention, making something stir inside of him. Until Louis realizes who it is. Harry Styles. 

When Louis still studied, he never got to know how Harry had ended up instructing the band. Or if Harry had played an instrument before. As Louis sees Harry on the stage, he understands how comfortable Harry is when he is performing. It's almost magical to watch, how controlled and perfect his playing is. Louis doesn't wonder anymore, why Harry was always after perfection. But now Harry is here. And can't teach perfection to anyone anymore. 

Louis knows that the song is coming to its end. He walks towards the door and turns to look at the band on that small stage. The people in the bar clap and Harry moves his saxophone from his lips. He smiles gently and nods to the audience. Louis would want to turn around but he can't. Until Harry sees him. Louis has to leave. He walks out of the door, bumping to someone at the same time. He apologizes, taking quick steps on a summery night street of London. 

“Louis!” He hears. It's him. Louis fills his lungs with air and drops the cigarette from his hand. He hears fast steps behind him, an out of breath voice coming closer. Louis turns around and sees Harry almost jogging.  
“Louis.” Harry smiles, carrying his saxophone in its bag.  
“Hi.” Louis greets and swallows his nervousness down.  
“Hi.” Harry breathes and chuckles. The dimples that are so very dear to Louis, come to Harry's face and make warmth spread in Louis' body. 

“How are you?” Harry asks, fixing the hold of the bag on his shoulder.  
“I'm good. You?”  
“I'm not teaching at the school anymore. So I play with that band and such.” Harry says and nods. He bends his neck a little, coming closer to Louis.  
“I guess you aren't at the school anymore either?” His green eyes glint in the street lights.  
“No, I got enough.” Louis doesn't want to tell the real reason for his leaving.  
“But you still play?”  
“Not really.” Louis wonders, what Harry thinks about him. At least he doesn't seem like he could know Louis to be the reason, that Harry can't teach anymore.  
“Well, are you going somewhere? I mean if you don't have anything special planned, maybe we could spend some time together?” Harry suggests, his features are soft. He brushes his hand through his hair, that reach his neck. The last time Louis saw Harry, he had longer hair.  
“I don't have anything, I'm just going home.”  
“Would you mind, if I'd come with you?” The question surprises Louis. First he doesn't know what to say and when he would want to say something, it feels impossible to get it out from his mouth.  
“Surely I understand, if you don't want anyone to come with you.” Harry laughs and waves his hand in the air.  
“No, it would be nice if you'd come with me.” Louis says and takes a new cigarette from the packet. He puts it between his lips and lights it up. 

“I didn't know that you smoked.” Harry mentions, when they start to walk.  
“It's kind of a new thing.” Louis breathes the smoke out from his mouth.  
“May I?” Harry asks and reaches his hand towards Louis. Louis looks at it and gives the cigarette to him. Harry draws the nicotine in to his lungs, keeping it inside for a moment. He blows the smoke out slowly, enjoying the taste.  
“Thank you.” Harry smiles to Louis. 

\- -

“Why haven't you been playing?” Harry asks, holding Louis in his arms. They lay under the sheets, their legs entwined with each others. They are smoking, breathing in the smoke in turns. Louis lays on his side, holding his head on Harry's skin.  
“I just wasn't interested in it anymore.” Louis sighs and takes a breath from the cigarette, Harry keeping it between his fingers.  
“The music never leaves the players blood.” Harry says quietly, blowing smoke from his mouth. He turns to breathe the smell of Louis' hair, keeping his nose close to Louis' head.  
“Did you know that you have always smelt good.” Harry says and makes Louis chuckle.  
“You have mentioned that.”

“I have a project, where I would need a pianist. It's a concert, where a lot of talent scouts will be coming from significant record labels. Would you be interested to come?” Harry asks, clearly smiling.  
“Why are you asking me?” Louis wonders out loud.  
“Because you are one of the best, that I have ever taught.” Harry's words make Louis turn around. He leans to his arms looking at Harry's green eyes.  
“You have never said that to me.”  
“I know, but now I am.” Harry smiles and brings Louis closer. Harry's hand grazes Louis' bare back and he smiles. Harry puts the cigarette between his lips to have his other hand free. Harry moves Louis' soft hair from his forehead and moves his fingers from his neck to his shoulder.  
“Are you coming?” Harry asks, the cigarette still in his mouth. Louis doesn't know what to think, other than he could spend more time with Harry.  
“Alright, I'm in.” Louis nods. Harry takes the cigarette from his mouth and puts it out in to a bowl next to the bed. He kisses Louis cheeks, before kissing Louis' lips lightly. 

\- - - -

“Are everyone ready?” Harry asks from his band, his eyes steady. Everyone echo him yes, the answer going around the room.  
“Lets go then.” Harry announces and everyone steps on to the stage. The audience claps. Louis feels himself gliding to his place. He smiles towards the audience and looks at Harry. He bends his neck and smiles to Louis. But there is something wrong with the smile. It's hard and smug. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. I'm Harry Styles and this is our band, The Trustees.” Harry raises his arm towards the band and the audience starts to clap a little more strongly. Louis places his music sheets on to the stand over the keyboards and evens them.  
“We start with a slower song, 'Intoit'!” Harry says and turns towards his band. The smile on Louis' face sheds away, when he sees Harry's eyes. They watch Louis coldly, he has a tight smile on his lips. It's like Louis was in school again. Like he would hear all the insults in the world. Frantically Louis goes through his music sheets, not finding the right pages. He doesn't have the right notes! Louis knows the song, but he has never played it. He knows that piano carries the song from start to finish. Louis looks around him, seeing that everyone else in the band has the right notes in front of them. Everyone has some corrections written to the sides of the papers. Harry walks closer to Louis, taking off his jacket. He is wearing a black shirt, that is a bit tight from his shoulders. Everyone is wearing the same clothes. But the clothes bring out Harry's best parts even better. 

“Do you think that I wouldn't know, that you told the university board, what we did? You are still the same fag as you have always been.” Harry says and he has the most horrible smile on his lips. Louis swallows and places his fingers on the keys.  
Harry walks in front of the band, lifting his hands in the air. He starts to lead the saxophonists and Louis, who has no idea how the tempo or the melody goes. He tries to see others music sheets, but they are all sitting too far away.  
“What the hell are you doing?” One of the trumpeters asks. Louis shakes his head and feels himself breathing shallowly. The other members of the band turn to look at Louis, when he plays the piano too fast during his solo. Harry has a mean smile on his lips. It grows every time Louis makes big mistakes. Louis tries to listen to the others to get a connection with the song. 

Louis hits the last keys, when everyone else have already finished. Harry bends his neck and winks at Louis. Louis feels how he can't breathe. This was it. He is never going to become a jazz pianist, even though he wouldn't want it that much as he earlier did. But he would be lying, if Louis told himself, that it wouldn't be his dream anymore.  
The audience stays quiet, maybe two people clap. 

Louis stands from his chair and walks out from the stage. He leans to his knees and looks at Harry, who turns towards the people listening.  
“Our pianist apparently has a bad day. Sorry about that. Let's continue...” Harry has to stop, when he hears Louis' sharp steps against the floor of the stage. Louis takes off his jacket and opens the top button of his shirt. He looks Harry in the eyes, knowing that Harry can't bounce Louis around like this anymore. Harry watches Louis, unable to read him. 

Louis starts to play a tempo. There is no bigger melody to his music. No one knows what he is playing, but the tempo seems familiar.  
“What are you playing?” One of the saxophonists next to the piano asks.  
“'Overture'. From my mark, join me.” Louis tells her. Louis doesn't care of the dirty looks in front of the band, that Harry is giving him.  
Louis gets to a certain part of the song and turns to look at the rest of the band. He nods strongly and the others start to play their instruments. Harry has no other option than to lead his band as well as he can. Louis looks at Harry quickly, it's just a glance. Harry could kill Louis, he knows it. Harry's eyes are like steel, his jaw is tense and his mouth is tightly shut.  
Louis plays enjoying every moment. Even though this would be the last moment he would ever play the beautiful piano, he has to show everyone his skills. He has to show himself what he is capable of doing. He has to show Harry, that he can be the best. Because he is. 

Louis feels his heart beating in its bony shackles. Louis feels how it would want to escape from his body and fly. Louis closes his eyes and breathes in the music, that he creates. He feels how a drop of sweat rolls next to his ear, against the back of his neck and to his shirt. Louis feels alive again. He doesn't need anyone else to feel like this, only himself and music. His fingers move on the keys effortlessly, living their own life. 

The song feels its last notes and Harry finishes with a sigh. But Louis doesn't stop. He keeps on playing. The music doesn't end in his body, he just has to get it out.  
“What song?” One of the trumpeters asks.  
“'Whiplash'!” Louis plays the tempo to everyone else. Louis opens his eyes and looks at Harry, who is walking towards him.  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Harry's eyes are flaming.  
“From my queue.” Louis says to him and lets the music flow from his fingers. Harry has no other option than to back away. He has to pay attention to the music more carefully than ever before. Louis looks Harry in the eyes and nods at him. 

The whole band joins Louis. Louis feels blood pumping lively in his veins, buzzing in his head. He has never felt this free before. Louis' music carries the whole band, the others are helping to show who he really is. Louis looks Harry from under his brows. Louis has hunger for success in his eyes.  
Harry nods his head. His breathing is fast and his chest rises passionately under his black shirt. His green eyes are flickering, he bites his lip and he leads Louis to be even better than he already is. Louis realizes that for once Harry pushes Louis forward, he encourages Louis. Louis hits his fingers to the keys, making the music echo in the theater heavily. Louis looks at the audience, that he doesn't actually see as the lights make him blind. The last melodies play from the musicians instruments, making Louis almost pass out. This is the moment, when he is the best. Louis' fingertips are hitting the keys wildly, making them feel gentle. His shirt sticks to his back and he takes a deep breath. 

The last notes resonate in the theater. Louis lifts his gaze from the keys and he looks at Harry out of breath. And Harry knows. Harry knows that Louis is magic.


End file.
